He looked ahead of him, behind him, and straight up. No one was in sight.
He smacked his ears smartly in case something had gone amiss inside his head.
"Hello!"
Mr. Strunk felt suddenly lonesome in the gloom of the cañon and shivered. The thought came that perhaps his uncle was going to haunt him to see how he spent his money.
"Hello!"
The voice was louder and sounded less as though it came from the grave.
Then something ahead moved on the apparently perpendicular cañon wall.
"Gee-e-e whiz!" Clarence Strunk's eyes bulged.
The horses splashed a little faster toward a clinging figure.
"My grip's nearly gone!" Bob smiled faintly, but his face was white with the strain as he spread like a star-fish on the cañon wall, the ball of one foot resting on a slight projection, the fingers of one hand thrust in a crevice, and the other hand gripping a tiny
